


History Repeats

by She_Who_Only_Knows_War



Category: Original Work
Genre: Discussions of sex, Dubious Consent, F/M, Foul Mouthed characters, Government Meddling, Hopeful Ending, I think I'm done with this, TtIW Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-04 03:35:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5318906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Only_Knows_War/pseuds/She_Who_Only_Knows_War
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yarran lives in modern America. In college and walking alongside Humans.</p><p>Until her inhuman nature is used against her.</p><p>No one is fairing any better...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another spin off? What?  
> Yeah, I know. But what fun is it if I can't expand upon my world a little?  
> I really wanted to go more in-depth but the whole thing just got away from me.
> 
> If you see anything I can improve on/should tag, do let me know.

So, I guess you're wondering what happened right?

Right.

First things first, about fifty years ago, the Mainlanders came to _Ichna'ka_ \- What you Mainlanders call, "The Island." They waged war and we lost hordes of good people.

Tribes, bloodlines, and traditions lost.

None of us (And when I say _us_ , I mean we as a People. I wasn't born yet) knew what to do.

Until one day, we finally met a stalemate with the Mainlanders. They realized we had other Humans with us.

They love their people. There's no mistake to it. They love them enough that we were able to use our native Humans as bargaining chips.

I'm not going to tell you I think it was wrong. They attacked us and all we ever wanted was our families to have food, shelter, and a knowledge that we didn't have to look over our shoulders forever.

But I can't honestly say it was right, either. A lot of good Humans were lost in the process. ("We had to show we were serious," my _Yaabaa_ \- Grandfather - once said.) And it had to have been a harrowing experience.

Fast forward twenty years and the hatred that was fostered between us had both festered and faded - Depending on whom you talk to, of course.

This was about the time that a bridge was built from our small, beautiful Island to the Mainland.  
Mainlanders, excited about the new frontier, came as tourists and visitors and some even tried to live amongst us.

We have not always been a kind people. You see, we have had it ingrained for generations that you do not trust what isn't actually yours.  
Your pets are yours. Your house is yours. Your spouse is yours.

Not much else, though.

We didn't welcome these people. We didn't like them, either. And many of our _Tilaii_ \- Our Elders, for you Humans who've never been close to us - insist to this day that the Mainlanders only wish to eradicate us.

Maybe they do.

 

Another thirty years passed. And here we are. We intermingle with Humans, Tarshish, and Skin Walker all the time. Our oldest _Tilaii_ always complain about it like it's going to take away their comforts. And maybe it's because I grew up meeting different people, exposed to different influences, that it doesn't bother me at all.

My name is Yarran. I hail from the Kaddesh family. Haunku and Anju are my most Notable Ancestors. (We're required to tell each other this when we meet other Full-Bloods. I was amazed when my friend, Eliza, couldn't tell me a Notable Ancestor.) I live in America, but I always go home for the holidays my family celebrates.

I'm also part of a program for Full-Blood and Tarshish awareness. We give blood, we allow doctors to do tests and experiments and examinations on us.

Glancing at Koyong in the driver's seat of her Corolla Toyota with the horn on the console instead of the steering wheel, (That was the main selling point for her,) I realize she's looking at me. "What?"

"You're getting all spacey and shit."

"Is that bad?"

Her hands flex on the wheel. She's Xii, like me. All fluid grace and bright, green eyes. "I don't know what to do about my mom."

They have a complicated relationship. Her mom is part of the Species Separation Organization. Very vocal about it, too.

Koyong is also a Toko, which makes the _Tilaii_ squeamish. It's actually rude to tell people someone else's Notable Ancestors, so you'll have to ask her some time. What I _can_ tell you is that there are two branch offs in her family. Both branches insist they're the rightful heirs of the Toko Clan but their oldest living _Tilaii_ insists that both branches are proper Toko.

He's also the reason for the split.

A foot knocks me in the back of my seat and I turn to glare at Eliza. She smiles innocently.

"I think you should just tell her how you feel. You love each other, right?"

"You don't understand!" Says Koyong. "She's going to insist I come home when she finds out."

"You don't have to, though," Says Hera. He's a Rogue from what used to be called the Pride. And he's always been the type to get what he wants. "She can't make you."

"She _can_ make me miserable, though."

There's a long pause as we think about what could be done.

"Then break up with him," Says Jiidon, he's a Tarshish with more skill than most, less patience than all. But he is a problem solver.

"Damn it!" Cries Koyong, head slamming against the wheel. Part of me braces for the airbags. I could fight my way out just fine, it's Eliza and Jiidon I worry for.

"You've got another week to decide, but I think you should tell her," Says Hera.

_Easy for him to say_ , I think. _He has never been in love with a Human._

He's also a Rogue Build. Which means his testosterone levels are higher and his strength is double that of ours. His family settles arguments with their fists.

"I don't honestly think it's that big of a deal," Says Eliza. "Your Tilaii is Human. And most of his relatives were Human. Why does she care so much?"

We receive only a shrug in reply.

xXx

The sun is too bright for me, today. I ended up staying out way too late with Jiidon and drinking way too much. I think I vaguely remember him holding my hair while I threw up on his shoes. Not my greatest moment, I'll admit.

Hawinta and Julia smile at me from across the classroom and I ignore it. I know what they're thinking.

But so what if Jiidon and I spend so much time together? It's not like we're dating or anything.

You can call me a racist if you want, but I'm just not interested in Tarshish guys. It's nothing against them, I simply like Rogue a whole hell of a lot more.

I'd say I like Fall-Backs the most, but most of them are clique-y and stuck up. Pretty as hell, though.

The teacher, what we call a Soft - one of our kind that isn't particularly athletic or tall - stops mid sentence, body tensing and head swiveling towards the door.

"Mister Kettek?" Asks one of the Human guys on the left side of the room. "What's-"

"Get down!" He yells a split second before glass shatters and men come flooding through the only other exit with guns raised. We duck under our desks and wait. Terrified of what might come next.

We've heard of a lot of shootings over the past few months, they all filter through my mostly empty head as I look around. Hera and his jock friends are crouched under their desks like hunters. Jiidon is grim-faced and calculating.

Koyong looks as conflicted as ever. Her boyfriend, Adam, is crouched nearby.

I think it's cute that she's six-foot-four, two inches taller than he is, but he's still trying to protect her.

"We don't want any trouble," Says one of the men, I notice his shiny, black combat boots and the soft, click, of a gun being cocked. "The United States has decided to hear out the Toko Clan's cries of segregation."

Several women put their faces in their hands. Some sniffle.

Hera shifts, long legs unfolding and a _**bang**_ bounces off the walls. Hera drops back down, arm weeping blood. Something is wrong here.

"We don't want to hurt anybody else. So you're going to come out in the order we tell you to come out or we won't hesitate to make examples out of you."

Queun darts over, risking his life, to help Hera apply pressure to his arm.

"First, the Skin-Walkers."

There's a long pause as nobody moves. One of the men stalks around the classroom, heavy boots making his presence known, before stopping at a desk I know is Gita's.

I hear several growls in the silence that follows three bullets being sent into the ceiling.

"Now," He says.

Gita stands and leads the exodus out.

Hera's dug his knife out of his bag, pays special care not to let the blade catch the light. I catch Queun's eye, wordlessly trying to make him coax Hera out of this suicidal scheme. Queun only nods.

"Next we want the Tarshish out."

They instantly spring into action, quick to leave.

Except Jiidon.

I want to tell him to run. To go while he can. But I'm scared. I don't want anybody to get hurt.

I don't want him to leave my sight.

"That all of 'em?"

When no one answers, he says. "If you didn't leave before, now is your last chance."

At first, I'm sure they know Jiidon is still there, still waiting. And I freeze. Something wet streams down my face and patters onto my hand but I just don't have the strength to see what it is.

Finally, a man with orange hair makes a break for it. Jiidon doesn't move.

"Good," Says the man. "Now I want the Softs out." The man's hand shoots out, shoving our professor back onto his desk. "Not you. We need you."

"The Xii-" He trips over a chair that miraculously moved an inch into his path. Bullets spray and screams erupt. I stay put until it subsides.

Turning to glare and exchange angry words with Jiidon for his stupid, immature, homicidal stunt, I find him lying on the floor beside me. His breath his labored and I know.

I know he's going to die.

Taking him in my arms, I look around. "Help! We need medical attention over here!"

His fingers wrap around my wrist, I run my free hand through his bright, blue hair. Several men surround us, look at him, then shrug.

"Can't anyone do anything?!" I scream.

"He should have left when he had the chance," Says the man from before. Jiidon's gasps become choking sounds and I hold him and cry until he goes still.

I'm surprised they let me.

Prying me off of him, the men shove me out into the hallway. Koyong stands anxiously beside me, hand hovering over my shoulder as though unsure if she should touch me.

Sounds of a scuffle sift through the door, Hera cries out, someone screams. Someone else starts laughing, harsh and cruel.

When Hera appears bloody, handcuffed with his hands in front, and hateful, I know Queun, a Skin-Walker, was discovered and killed.

I'm actually surprised when Hera gathers me and Koyong into his arms.

"I'm sorry," Is all he says before the men in the room start firing.

People are trying the door and screaming - on both sides, Hera never lets us go.

_Oh_ , I think. _Oh, my world just ended._

The bodies of the murdered are drug out into the hallway. I can't bear to look at them.

" **Adam!** " Screams Koyong. "Oh, Yinkya, please! **Please** not Adam!"

I feel Hera shift to keep Koyong against him. I hear him whispering assurances. But I have no idea what he says. I can't understand the noise he makes, nor the language he speaks. As if I'm in a sea of cotton, everything is muffled.

(Eliza is dead.)

I lie my head against his chest and hear nothing but his heartbeat.

xXx

"Yarran, " He says. "Wake up."

I feel bleary, unsure of what's real and what's not, aside from the talking unicorns that dress up like French men and talk like Australians.

Oh yeah, I've got a great imagination. Eliza used to love it....

.... Eliza....

The restraints are tight when I yank my hands, still blind with panic. No. No. _No_ , that couldn't have possibly happened.

No Humans would kill their own, right?

_Right?_

The television flickers on in the corner, something I didn't notice before.

"Reporting to you live! The deathtoll at Illia University is staggering!"

"Illia?" I ask. Hera is watching with his hand over his mouth. The images are graphic. They colour the walls with vivid red and white.

The walls are painted blue when the camera shows a woman, face slack, ice blue eyes staring into infinity.

Lanna was a Full-Blood of Rogue descent, of course she would have followed Hera's lead to battle.

"Sources say that a Race war broke out amongst the Tarshish and Full-Bloods and the Humans were caught in the middle."

"What?" I ask. "What's happening?"

"Many of the students have gone missing and- _Oh!_ " Cries the woman, looking increasingly distressed. "Another shooting has happened on another campus as we speak!"

"Hera..." My voice sounds watery and weak. His hand strokes my calf, above where my ankle is bound. He doesn't look at me.

xXx

The outfits given identify our Race and Sub-race on the left breast.

Koyong looks rough, but she's okay. And that's all that matters to me.  
I still feel a sort of vertigo over the next few days.

The T.V. in our room only airs news channels. Through that, we learn we're missing. Our families beg us to come home, to make things right with the families of the Tarshish and Humans we destroyed.

Koyong's family demands to be part of the investigation.

Especially her mother.

Our first days pass like this: The television sets coming on by themselves in the morning to wake us with whatever news about us is being aired, being herded to the cafeteria like cattle, and then being allowed to go to our rooms or the community space.

I spend a lot of time by myself.

xXx

At the end of the week, we're lined up, forced to sit in an auditorium, and stay quiet.

"I know these last few days have been very stressful," Says the woman at the wooden podium. "Your sacrifices have been great. And we commend you."

Flipping Brown hair over her shoulder, she looks at each of us. "But you aren't done yet."

Whispers erupt around the room. And she waits patiently for them to die down. "We've decided that your specific Races are to be preserved."

"You should feel honoured that we chose you."

xXx

"This makes no sense," Says Hera. "To say _'Preserve the Race,'_ then pair me with a Fall-Back."

The woman gives him a look that clearly says she doesn't want him soiling her lineage, either.

"Simply put," Says our Counselor, all blonde hair and soft lips, "we need more man-power, and Rogues are the most suitable to defend our people."

Hera's lips twist into a snarl, the thin, black lines under his eyes intensifying the expression and sets even me on edge. "So we make little soldiers for you, like good little pets?"

The woman gives a nervous smile. "You don't have to think of it like that. Think of it as, you're supporting and doing a good thing for your country."

"Then send _me_ to war!" Hera's hand slams against the table, hackles up. If the Counselor is fazed, she doesn't show it. "But don't commission children - _**My children**_ \- to do your fucking dirty work!"

"It doesn't work that way, Mr. Hera."

He stands, hunched nearly over her and Koyong stands, too, trying to grab him before he does something we'll all regret.  
The idea instantly dies when he turns towards her with bared teeth. Something Hera has never done to us.

Ever.

Koyong backs off after that.

Lashes lowered, the counselor says, "We aren't really giving you a choice. You can do this the easy way or the hard way."

Hera flips the table.

And we watch in shock and fear when she tases him.

xXx

After his fourth time in the infirmary, Hera stops jumping out of the bed, spitting fire and hate.

After the fourth time, Hera just lies back against the pillows and stares at nothing. I haven't been assigned a partner yet, Hera's partner doesn't care much about him, so Koyong and I both check up on him.

"We aren't getting out of here without a miracle," Says Hera, surprising me.

When I came in, the nurses were concerned over a concussion he received. He seems sort of foggy, but that might be the sedative that flows through the I.V.

Koyong has said something similar to me. "I know."

If he were more aware, he'd probably sound angry or morose. But now, he sounds tired, empty, and sort of spacey. "I was supposed to lead our Pack. I was supposed to get us out of this."

Stroking his blonde hair, I try to sound reassuring. "It's going to be okay."

The media has moved on now. We're not the victims, nor the perpetrators. Just ghosts that only our families care about.

Koyong's family refuses to give up the search. Hera's family still issues requests for him to come home from time to time.

My family always says the same thing: "We know it was a mistake. Come back to _Ichna'ka_ and we'll keep you safe."

Hera, even drugged up, looks at me with foggy eyes and knows I'm lying through my teeth.

xXx

My partner, Afan, actually hails from our Island. Says that his Human neighbors turned him over.

I take consolation in the fact that he can't prove it.

He's Rogue Built. Mile-long shoulders and dark hair with a grumpy demeanor.

It takes me two days to realize he's really a lot softer than he likes people to know.

I tell him about America and he tells me about his family. His most Notable Ancestor is Sho of the Shadow Clan, by the way. Since I'm technically married to him now, his ancestors are mine.

Koyong's partner is a mute from Canada, Xii Built with long fingers and elegant features.

He seems resolutely stoic towards us, often unimpressed by Hera's bickering with Afan.

"I've been thinking," Says Hera. "They haven't been pushing us to..." His gaze shifts away, out the window. It lets in light but there's a barrier of some sort up. No one has made it through.

Afan frowns. "I think they're waiting. They know they don't have to."

Knowing where this is going, I grimace. Hera is still quizzical. "What do you mean?"

Before you make fun of Hera, he grew up in the States. His family taught him some things and left out everything else.

Like for instance:

"Fall Season. We've been here for months and they haven't pressured us other than putting us together. They're waiting for Fall Season."

At Hera's strange glance, Afan and Eiche, Koyong's partner, share a look and roll their eyes. "You honestly can't not know," Says the Rogue. "Right?"

Hera's expression is still blank.

"Oh for fuck's sake!" Yells Koyong. Several Tarshish, who happened to be passing by, jump away from her and give hear wary looks. "Hera!" Leaning in and lowering her voice, she says, "I know you get horny during the Fall Semester, right?"

Suddenly embarrassed, Hera stutters out an, "A-ah. Oh. U-um. Well, yeah. I guess..."

"The coach almost always has to tell you to tone it down during games, right?"

Expression turning sour again, Hera says, "Yeah? So _what?_ Every Rogue has to be-"

"That's part of Fall Season, dumbass."

Hera's mouth snaps shut.

"And Yishva will probably start randomly - To _you_ anyway - pestering you for children."

Hera's face becomes tomato red and his eyes grow wide.

Afan, picks at his meal, almost idly. "You've been through it before?"

"Avoided it," Says Koyong. "My family hid me during the worst of it. Always have."

"That explains why the teacher gave you a pass," I say. She usually does her homework over the summer. This year had been an exception.

She and Adam were going to go through Fall Season together, I realize, somewhat belatedly.

But none of that matters now.

What matters is surviving and getting out of here.

xXx

Tugging at the gold coloured collar around my throat, I seat myself next to Afan and gaze at the the browning leaves.

Koyong and Eiche have already locked themselves in their quarters.

But I know they aren't going to get very far. Koyong has had some horrific experiences with the opposite sex. And she's never been the type to disregard the lessons from past mistakes.

Lying my head on Afan's shoulder, trying to squirrel away what little warmth I can from him, I absently draw pictures on the fogged pane of the window. Which is counterproductive because the glass is chilled and it runs from my index finger to my arm, raising the fine hair on my skin and giving me goose pimples.

Afan is watching me with a sort of predatory gleam in his eyes, but he makes no move to uproot me from our spot on the cushioned window seat.

His heartbeat lulls me and his earthy smell puts me at ease. "Do you trust me?" I feel more than hear him say.

Looking up at his perfect, straight nose and pronounced jawline and meeting his smoldering eyes, I realize what he's asking me.

I'm scared to answer so I just look at him. My emotions have been running high as of late. A touch is a slap or a caress. A stroke brings either pleasure or fear.

So for him to ask this of me...

His gaze casually turns back to the window and my heart jumps into my throat. He isn't going to force this on me, I remind myself. He isn't going to hurt me.

"Okay. I'll trust you," I whisper. I hope with all my being I won't regret it.

He says nothing else, looks at me with a careful, penetrating gaze, before scooping me up into his arms and whisking me away from the window.

Feeling weightless against him, arms around his neck and his soft lips - Only a scar from the center of his bottom lip to his chin - against my shoulder, is a feeling I hope to never forget.

xXx

Staring up at the ceiling, stroking his hair as he lies against my breast is certainly different.

Grey eyes that glow in the low light flick up to meet mine. His expression - Desire, Possession, Protection - gives me chills.

And I know, that whatever happens, he's going to be here with me. He's not going to let anything happen to me.

Sleep is the sweetest I've had in months.

Everything is going to be okay.


	2. Home

I lean my head against the wall and wait. Miira is huddled against me and I hold her close.

Koyong's son sits in front of me, scowling at the door. I wish she'd encouraged him to stay close, but he wouldn't have even if she'd told him to do it.

Yunne, Hera's daughter, kneels beside him and ignores any beckoning I've done.

"What do you think is happening?" Asks Naijin, another woman who has been tasked with keeping an eye on the cubs.

I can't honestly say. Everything was good one moment, all of us enjoying lunch and talking about what our lives were like before the Draft. The next, sirens were going off. Eiche, Hera and Afan were told to help guard. Koyong and Yishva refused to be left behind.

"I lived through Adam. But I will die with Eiche," Koyong had said, handing Renjiir to me.

I hate when they make me a daycare. I wish I had convinced Afan to stay with me. At least then, I wouldn't be holding my breath, wondering if he's going to come back.

The door rattles and Naijin shivers beside me, holding the children tighter against her.

Yunne scoots back on her little bottom, away from the door. Renjiir doesn't move. It's at this moment, I decide I'm going to tell Koyong that her son is definitely like every one of his family. Which will give Eiche a headache and Koyong a bigger head over her Bloodline.

The door is thrust forwards but the chains and the locks keep it from moving any further than a few inches.

"Open the door," Says a man on the other side.

Naijin and I hold our breath, try to keep the children from making a sound.

"We know you're there," He says. "And we can help you if you do things our way."

Standing, and trying to level out my breathing, I unsheath the knife I'd snuck out of the kitchens when the guards weren't watching. Weren't counting on me to push against my own Stockholm Syndrome.

Stepping around our cubs, I brace myself and wait by the door. If they want our Offspring, they'll have to kill me first.

And I plan to make it very, very difficult.

"Move!" Yells a woman. I can hear her shoving people out of the way. "Move you bastards!"

There's a moment of silence before the lock _clicks._ The door is shoved open but catches on the many deadbolts and complicated mechanisms.

A knife slips through the crack in the door and unhooks one of the locks. Another is worked open. My heart thunders in my ears, palms sweating.

I let out a hiss when another is worked open and the knife pauses.

"What are you hiding in there?"

I kick the door closed in response and the woman pulls back before the force of the door can do her harm. She growls on the other side. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Yarran."

Glancing back to Naijin, she stares at me with wide eyes, sweat dripping down her face.

"I should have known you'd do this the hard way," Says the woman. "Koyong always liked the stubborn types."

"Jez?" I ask. It jumps from my lips before I can stop it.

"That's _Mistress_ Jez to you, you Packless Kaddesh."

They actually came for us.

They didn't forget us.

"Now open this damn door."

"Um. Ah. Y-yes Ma'am!"

 

xXx

 

My mother's embrace is tight. There are cameras everywhere and it's anxiety inducing but Afan is always close at hand, cradling Miira - Who has never been outside the Facility.

Hera has sustained minor injuries, Eiche is in intensive care, both having done what they were told: Defend the Facility.

Jez, in police garb, stands around questioning us, talking to other detectives, and helping detain their arrestees.

It's a little weird that she isn't crowding her child, grandchild, and the man her child is mated to.

Patting Yishva on the shoulder, she turns and looks at me. Approaching me, her gloved hand settles on my head. "You showed some good aggression back there."

I thin my lips. People in America frown upon aggression.

Our People don't. "I'm glad they didn't take that from you. Next time, go for the kill. Not the warning."

I still don't say anything.

"Nonche Jez!" Yells a reporter, shoving the microphone into her face. "What can you tell us about this raid?" _Nonche_ , by the way is our word for Leader, Mistress, and anything else that puts them in a leadership position. 

Putting her hands on her hips and looking every bit like the Head Toko she is, she says, "Nothing, you lying scum. Get out of my fuckin' face."

Laughter breaks from a man nearby and he causally hip-nudges Jez out of the limelight. "Excuse our Nonche. She's very much like a well known Ancestor."

Huffing, Jez turns, stalks over, and gets into a shiny red car, entourage fussing over her and her foul mouth.

The man, with a bright smile and sly eyes, answers much, much nicer. "Yes, our children were taken." And, "No, we don't want war. We've had enough adventure. We'll just go home, thanks." And, "Of course spouses will be accepted. We aren't savages."

When it's over and done, I catch his eye, and realize I'm staring.

He looks young. No older than twenty-five maybe, but his eyes are old. Older than any others I could ever know. This, I realize, is Koyong's Tilaii.

The immortal Human.

"You must be Yarran." He's shorter than I, with dark hair and tanned skin. "I'm sorry for all you've lost."

I shake my head. "I'm still alive. I haven't lost anything."

His smile makes me feel like I'm talking to a relic from beyond the beginning of the universe. Its a strange feeling, really. To know that this man is history embodied. He knows how things happened - More accurately than any of us. Walked and talked with the people that shaped who our People are today. "I'm glad you see it that way. But I think you'll find you _have lost_. Possibly more than your friends who have lost their lives."

Unsure of how to respond, I simply look at him.

He smiles again, "Keep fighting, Yarran. It's far from over." And with that, he turns and scoops up Renjiir, who took an instant liking to the old man. The boy squeals and smiles and plays with their Tilaii's hair piece.

My mother takes me by the hand and guides me back to the car. Afan and Miira are already inside. I lie my head on his shoulder and he gives me a soft kiss on the forehead.

 

xXx

 

Hera and Yishva stay in the States. It's the only place he's ever known. And they sincerely believe the government is in enough scandal to leave them be.

I don't.

Koyong, I never see again. She and her family are escorted by the Toko Pack to their Territory.  
We all still visit the graves of our classmates from time to time. Sometimes, tidying up the place.

I miss Eliza and Jiidon. I think I always will.

Afan's arms wrap around my waist as we stand, looking at the flowers on Eliza's grave. "It's beautiful, Yarran."

"Ready?" I ask after we've stood and looked on for a few long minutes.

Heading back to the car, Miira and Shui, sitting in their carseats, smile at us as we approach.

Afan holds my hand as we make the drive back to Ichna'ka.


End file.
